Crossover
by memory.woman
Summary: Scabior, normally a relentless snatcher, is conflicted when he takes captive someone from his past. He become even more so when he learns of a dangerous secret she possesses. Scabior/OC.
1. Chapter 1

It was absolute chaos. Sparks flew everywhere. They hit off trees, snapping branches and even uprooting them. Cracks, pops, booms, and crashes were heard from every direction. Jets of red, orange, green, and purple flew from wands as nearly a dozen of figures ran through the forest. Any onlooker would have thought a firework show was happening deep in the woods just at twilight.

However, this was no Fourth of July celebration. It was a full on battle. Snatchers were chasing five different wizards all around the abandoned woods. Scabior chased after a woman, as he could tell from her long reddish-brown hair. She was quick, running ahead of him, and a skilled witch, casting spells in silence in attempts to trip him up. She would block all of his curses, or revert them back to him, or cast some of her own. She turned back a _Stupefy_ so quickly that Scabior only missed it by a hair. She _Reducto_-ed a tree stump so unexpectedly that it exploded in Scabior's face and allowed her to get a few more meters ahead of him.

How she came to be his, however, Scabior knew he could take no credit for. She had turned to throw another vicious curse at him as she ran on, when her foot became caught under a protruding tree root. The woman fell to the ground, her wand tossed from her grasp, and she was his. Scabior quickly was on top of her and grabbed her wand. She turned to look up at him and spat in his face.

Scabior recognized her at once. Her green eyes, in all their fury, pierced through to his core. Her creamy skin and high cheekbones were just the way he remembered. Except now she looked a bit more mature, and more rugged as she had been on the run. But she was still painfully beautiful. She writhed underneath him with all of her might, her long hair everywhere. She started to get away, as Scabior had lightened his weight on her in his realization, but he quickly focused on containing her. She didn't recognize him at all, Scabior realized, because she was fighting too much to get a good look at him.

"Scarlett?" Scabior asked.

The girl immediately stopped fighting. She shook her hair out of the face and looked up at her captor. Her expression quickly turned from confusion to shock to anger, and again she was fighting, though now she was vocal.

"Scabior! Get off of me! I'll kill you! I WILL KILL YOU! Let go of me, wretch! Coward! Stand and fight me, you traitor! I'll _KILL_ you!"

"Scarlett, stop it," Scabior said with force. He produced ropes from the end of his wand and Scarlett lay bound beneath him.

As she could no longer fight him with her wand or her body, the woman now resorted to a verbal attack.

"See you're still the scum you were when I threw you in Azkaban, you filth! Always working for the highest bidder. Coward!"

Scabior suddenly felt conflicted, though he could not deem it possible for he had never felt thus before in his life. He thought back to ten years ago, to when he was still a schoolboy at Hogwarts. They were in their fifth year then, he and Scarlett. He remembered the late-night studying, or more like tutoring for him, that they would do in the library before potions exams. He remembered the afternoons they would spend by the Great Lake, talking about nothing until it was too dark to see. He remembered practically begging her to do his essays for him, which she never did, but she was always most helpful. She, a Ravenclaw, was always very bright. The truth of the matter was that he had been infatuated with her, which was unheard of from a Slytherin. But her blood was pure enough, so he didn't mind.

Scabior also recalled when, five years later, Scarlet had placed him in Azkaban.. She was recruited to the Auror's office straight out of Hogwarts and went to work for the Ministry of Magic while she was still only seventeen. Scarlet had caught him and other dark wizards on a raid the Ministry conducted then. He remembered the look in her eye when she had him cornered and realized it was him. It was quite like tonight: shock, confusion, and anger. Scarlet was present at his trial before the Wizenagmont, and personally escorted him to Azkaban. The only words she spoke to him then were, "Look at you. Look at what you've become. And to think we used to be friends. To think, I used to like you." He couldn't even bring himself to hate her then, as she placed him in chains, locked him behind bars, and left him in a cage.

He couldn't dislike her now, either. She was a known member of the Order of the Phoenix. She was an Auror that had worked for the Ministry of Magic and had fled once it had fallen into the Dark Lord's control. Her name was on his list. And yet, he felt terrible apprehending her.

"Scarlett, shut up."

"COWARD!" she screamed again. "You think I'm actually going to listen to you? You think I give a damn about anything you have to say? You're a sell-out, a traitor, and a bastard!"

"Scarlett, please," he said apologetically. "You're on the list, I have no choice."

"Oh, do I detect a flicker of remorse?" she mocked back. "Finally realizing the costs of our actions, are we? You deserved to rot in Azkaban, you selfish git, and I'll see to it that you do when all of this is over!"

"You're not in much of a position to be making threats," Scabior said, getting to his feet and sending sparks from the tip of his wand to alert the other Snatchers as to his location.

"Yet," she spat.

"Do you think I had a choice?" Scabior said through clenched teeth, bending down to the ground to get in her face. "Do you think I could say no to the Dark Lord after I was broken out of Azkaban?"

"You did when you joined him six years ago! You've always been quick to show your support and fascination with the _Dark Lord_," she again mocked. "Didn't know who he'd force you to go after? Didn't know what side you were on? Well, now you do."

Scabior would have said something back, but at that moment, eight other people joined him and Scarlett.


	2. Chapter 2

"Finally got her, have you?" the vicious werewolf Fenrir Greyback questioned. He approached Scarlett, who had now managed to sit up, in long, dominant strides. "Pretty one you've got here," Greyback crooned. He leaned in to smell her neck. Scarlett shuddered visibly.

Scabior could feel every muscle in his body tense and his jaw clench. His blood curdled and boiled in his veins. He made a fist, and it was all he could do to keep from drawing his wand. He wanted nothing more than to throw Greyback off of Scarlett. He should have felt some sort of pleasure at her discomfort. He should have wanted to make her scream. She was responsible, after all, or putting him in Azkaban five years ago. And yet, he wanted nothing more than to save her. He wanted nothing more than to push Fenrir away, grab Scarlett, and Disapparate to somewhere far, far away.

"What's wrong? Is your wand in a knot?" Yaxley asked, for normally Scabior would have had something crude to say about the catch.

Remembering himself and who he was with, Scabior walked over to Scarlett and took her face in his wand-free hand. "Yes, she is," he said, forcing her to look him in the eye. "My best catch yet."

Scarlett felt disgusted and violated, and Scabior could tell. Her cheek burned red hot beneath his hand. He ran his fingers down her throat and touched her collarbone, for effect, before removing his hands from her. The other Snatchers snickered maliciously as he did so. Scarlett's smooth skin shuddered under his fingers. She stared at him with eyes widened by both fear and contempt. He hated that she was so revolted by his touch. He remembered when their hands used to brush as they walked across the grounds just before curfew while they were students still at Hogwarts.

The four other captives were then thrown in next to Scarlett as Scabior stood up from his catch. Scarlett did not recognize any of them – for which she was grateful. She still felt remorseful for their situations, but knew that they were not in as much trouble as she was, because they were not members of the Order of the Phoenix. She winced as she thought of what she would have to endure in the coming moments.

"Who have we here?" Scabior inquired, not unlocking his eyes from Scarlett's.

"Marcus Finchley," Yaxley spoke up. "Never reported for his blood-status hearing a month ago."

"Marjorie Griffiths," Fenrir Greyback said, "known Mudblood. She's on the list."

"Dirk Cresswell," said another Snatcher. "Mudblood."

"I've got a Mudblood too," said the last Snatcher. "Thomas Collins."

"Well then, quite a catch," Yaxley said. "And who do you have, Scabior?"

"Scarlett Mitchell," he said, his eyes still fixed on his victim. "Used to be an Auror. Known member of the Order of the Phoenix."

"Isn't she the one who put you in Azkaban?" someone asked.

"Yes," Scabior replied. "She is." Scarlett began to fear that he was growing angry.

Fenrir chuckled. "In that case, she's all yours!"

The captors dragged all of the victims to their feet. Scarlett gasped in protest. Scabior placed one hand firmly on her waist and clenched her arm with the other. She writhed in his grip.

"You get your filthy hands off me," she said through her teeth.

The Snatchers laughed. "Feisty, is she?" Yaxley mocked.

Scabior pulled her tighter to him and his breath was in her hair. At this she fought even harder. She wanted to get as far away from him as humanly possible. He leaned so closely to her ear that his lips were almost touching it and breathed inaudibly, "I'm sorry."

The apology was all it took for Scarlett to stop struggling so much, and the Snatchers and their victims Disapparated.

Sucked and twisted through darkness, Scarlett realized they had appeared just outside of an abandoned nuclear power plant. She knew that this is where the Death Eaters and the fallen Ministry of Magic were housing their conquests, as Azkaban had recently become overcrowded due to the larve number of blood-status hearings and subsequent convictions. The people who lived in the town near the abandoned plant thought the place was haunted and thus left it alone. The screams from the captives only helped egg on the rumors, and kept the prison a secret. The others appeared ahead of Scabior of Scarlett, and the group began walking toward the abandoned plant. Wands were drawn to break the protective spells around the fortress as the ten walked inside its boundaries.

"I'm going to have to torture you," Scabior leaned in and whispered in Scarlett's ear as they broke through the protective curses.

Scarlett turned and looked at him in shock. She tried to wriggle free from his grasp, but Scabior's grip was too tight on her. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted.

"Just listen," Scabior interjected. "You're a known member of the Order of the Phoenix. You used to be an Auror. They're going to think you know things, even if you don't. If someone else is in the room with us, I'm going to have to try and hurt you. I promise I won't be harsh." Scabior paused. "I don't want to do it."

"Then don't," Scarlett hissed, defiantly looking ahead.

"Everything all right back there?" Yaxley yelled back to Scabior. "Giving you trouble, is she?"

"Nothing I can't handle," Scabior smirked.

He and Scarlett looked at each other, and the green locked with brown. Her eyes searched him in both fear and pleading. "Scabior, please," she mouthed. "You're a good man, I know you are. You don't have to do this."

Scabior looked away from Scarlett and dragged her along. He wished he didn't hear what she had said. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want harm to come her way at all. But what choice did he have? What could he have done? He couldn't Disapparate with her from inside the boundaries of the abandoned power plant; the protective spells wouldn't allow it. If he tried to protect her, he himself would be in trouble, and someone else would be forced to question Scarlett, and would treat her much more harshly than he planned to. The thought of Fenrir's hands on Scarlett's slender body repulsed Scabior. His grip on her waist tightened.

The ten entered a long hallway in the abandoned plant. It contained numerous dimly lit cells that were filled with prisoners and filth. Scarlett looked for faces she recognized. Everyone looked dirty, emaciated, and frightened. Scarlett thought she caught a glimpse of Ted Tonks. All of the captives from the forest raid were put into cells with the others, except for Scarlett. Scabior dragged her to the end of the hall, where there was a door with no window. He waved his wand and the door clanked loudly as it unlocked. He opened the door and threw Scarlett inside. She landed hard on the concrete floor and turned to look at Scabior. Her expression was both defiant and hurt. Her eyes looked beyond Scabior, causing him to turn around to see who was there.

"Mind if I watch?" Yaxley grinned.


	3. Chapter 3

Scarlett breathed heavily and looked up at Yaxley in horror. She then looked at Scabior. His eyes widened at her. He had no choice. He would have to allow Yaxley to remain in the room with himself and Scarlett.

"Not at all," he said, keeping his voice as steady as he possibly could.

Scarlett got to her feet and stood in a defensive position, bracing herself for what she knew was coming. Yaxley chuckled. Scabior stood rooted to the ground beneath him. After a long moment, he tore his weighty feet heavily from the concrete floor and moved toward Scarlett. He caught both of her wrists in one hand and jerked her towards him.

"So where is your little club the Order of the Phoenix hiding out?" he asked. When Scarlett didn't respond, he continued, "Better yet, where is your dear friend Harry Potter? I know you Order people are protecting him." He pointed his wand at her throat as he questioned her.

"Like I'd tell you if I knew, scum," Scarlett retorted. She spat in his face for the second time that night.

Yaxley chuckled to himself. "For an Auror, you're not very smart, Miss Mitchell. Forget not, you lack a wand. I don't think that was a very wise decision."

"Well kill me when I start caring what you think, vermin," Scarlett yelled over Scabior's shoulder at Yaxley.

"How _dare_ you," Yaxley said, starting at Scarlett. "That can very well be arranged!" He drew his wand.

"NO!" Scabior shouted, his loud voice echoing in the high-ceilinged room. Everything stopped. "She's _mine."_

It was at this moment that Scarlett became truly horrified. Her breathing was still heavy. She was frightened for that harm that she was about to endure. She knew that Scabior would have to harm her now, because she had offended Yaxley. But the possessiveness, aggression, and authority that filled Scabior's voice is what truly shook her to the core. She felt so defenseless against him, lacking her wand, and knew that he was about to do his worse. She knew that she was not as physically strong as Scabior was, and that he would certainly overpower her with ease. She remembered learning this one afternoon at Hogwarts, when she thought the two should to study in the library, but Scabior detained her and forced her to spend the day outside instead. How she wished that was the situation she were in now.

Scabior threw her wrists from his grasp and slapped her hard across the face. Scarlett stifled the sting of his blow with the back of her hand and looked at him in shock. Scabior looked almost as shocked as she did over what had just happened. Scarlett, in anger, quickly drew her fist to punch him square in the jaw, but Scabior responded more quickly than she did. He caught her by the wrist and twisted her arm nearly to the point of breaking, causing her to cry out in pain. He pushed her up against the wall of the room, where she hit her head hard. Scabior closed in around her, narrowing the amount of free space between them. Their faces were only inches apart, their heavy breaths intertwined. She leaned her head back against the wall and winced in pain as he dug the tip of his wand into her throat. He looked at her long neck and pushed her flowing hair out of his way. He touched her neck again, this time more intimately than before. Scarlett let out a small squeal of discomfort and struggled beneath him. He pushed her further still into the wall. Scarlett screamed as Scabior closed what little space remained between them.

Yaxley laughed from across the room. "I'll leave the two of you be, then," he said slyly, and withdrew himself from the room.

Scabior and Scarlett remained perfectly still as the door slammed shut. Scabior removed his body weight from Scarlett, but did not step back. They continued to look each other in the eye. After a few more moments of silence, Scabior turned around to make sure that Yaxley really had gone. Once Scabior saw that he had, he turned around to face Scarlett.

He didn't see it coming, but she slapped him directly across the face with all of her might. He backed away from her, and she continued to pursue him with her fists. Her zip-up hoodie had fallen off of her shoulder, revealing the skin of her arm and a dirty white tank top. She violently struck him repeatedly in the arms and chest with her fists, and Scabior did nothing to stop her. He let her punch him for a long while.

"Stupid," she shouted with a punch, "lying, dirty, foul, vermin, traitor, scum!"

She screamed as she pushed him with all of her might, and Scabior stumbled backward, struggling to keep his balance.

"Scream again," Scabior instructed her.

"What?" Scarlett asked, confused.

"They need to think I'm hurting you," he said. "Scream!"

And so she did. This went on for a few moments. Scabior would stomp hardly on the floor every few moments, and even threw himself at the concrete wall twice. Scarlett would scream after he did so, and all those who listened would have thoroughly believed that some sort of struggle was happening in the room with the windowless door.

"You're out of your mind," Scarlett said in one of the moments of silence.

"Scarlett, I'm sorry. I had no choice! Yaxley was in the room, what was I to do?"

"There's your problem," she said. She paused to let out a short shriek. "You can't be on both sides, Scabior! You can't be a Death Eater when everyone's looking, and help me when we're alone. You can't play on both teams. And don't even try telling me you have no choice. You do! You can walk away, go into hiding!"

"It's not that simple, Scarlett."

And it wasn't. If he left, they would hunt him down. There were far too many of them; he would never be able to evade them for long. He would, without a doubt, be caught, and then tortured. Probably killed. All Scabior wanted was to be on the winning side, and for the past three years, he had firmly believed that that side would be the Dark Lord's. He couldn't leave now.

"Get up," he said. "I have to take you to your cell."

Scarlett got up and allowed him to grab her arm. She was beginning to bruise in the spot where is fingers had clenched so tightly around her. When Scabior noticed this, he loosened his grip.

"There will come a moment," Scarlett said to him as they approached the door, "when you'll have a choice. The opportunity to do something good. To do the right thing. I know you, Scabior," she said, her voice softening. "This isn't who you are. It isn't too late."

Scabior heard what she had said and internalized it, but chose to ignore her as he dragged her from the room and took her to an empty cell. He unlocked it and gently placed her inside, without doing anything else to injure her. He closed the bars, and she wrapped her fingers around them, leaning so that her face was close to his yet again.

"It isn't too late," she repeated in a whisper.

Scabior allowed his fingers to brush hers as he turned on his heel and walked down the hallway. "It's been too late for the past five years," he said to no one in particular.


	4. Chapter 4

Late that night, Scabior sat up wide awake in his room at the abandoned-power-plant-turned-prison. A candle was lit on his cluttered desk that gave a dim light to the rest of the room. He was sitting on the edge of his unmade bed with his head resting in his hands. He could not sleep.

Scabior felt absolutely rotten over the events that had transpired over the past six hours. He had never expected to come across anyone he knew as a Snatcher, nor had he expected to ever see such a significant figure from his past ever again. Scarlett Mitchell, of all people, had been the woman he ran after in the woods. She had been the one he had chosen to chase. She had been the one who lay struggling beneath him on the forest floor, never expecting to have him on top of her. He was still in utter shock and disbelief. It was torturing him that he had to hurt her.

He remembered their last night together at Hogwarts before they were to graduate. They sat talking on the lawn by the Great Lake so late that when they left, they could see the sun starting to rise. He held her hand all the while. Scarlett talked about her plans for the future. She would start working for the Auror's office in the middle of August, and was planning to tour Europe with her parents until then. She sounded so excited and happy, knowing exactly what she had wanted to do with her life. Scabior could have lain on that grass and listened to her talk for hours, smiling as she went on and on about what was to come. He, on the other hand, didn't have much of a plan for after he graduated. He didn't know what he wanted to do or where he wanted to work. Truthfully, he would have been very contented to follow Scarlett wherever she went. But instead, he took up a job in a shop in Knockturn Alley, and cannot remember his life being as happy since.

Three years later, when Scarlett had arrested him, he was reminded of just how different their lives really were. She looked more beautiful than he remembered, even when she placed him behind bars. Her green eyes, her long, wavy hair, and her creamy fair skin. He realized then that she didn't belong in his world. He had no claim on her anymore, as he once had when for seven years while they were but schoolchildren. Her life would never have arrived at the same place the he was currently at. She was so much better than that, and so much better than him. She deserved better than anything he could ever give her. Scarlett had let her fingers brush over his, much like he had today, when she locked him away.

"I'm not sorry," she had quietly said. "You've chosen your path, and I've chosen mine."

"Scarlett," he pleaded.

But she had left him there, rotting in a cell. Walked away from him for what she had probably thought was forever. Until tonight in the forest.

Scabior picked up a photograph that was beside him on his bed. It was of him and Scarlett, twirling around at the Yule Ball while they were in their fifth year, ten years ago. He had kept it all this time. They had gone as friends, and it was the most fun Scabior could remember having. She had looked absolutely lovely that night, wearing a strapless plum colored dress. Her hair, which was long even then, was in perfect ringlets. She smiled the whole entire night. They had danced well into the next morning, and she had even kissed him on the cheek when he had escorted her back to the Ravenclaw common room.

That was a very different time from where Scabior found himself now. It was much simpler. There was no war over good and evil, no combating powers, no conflict of any sort at all. There were just Hogwarts and Scarlett. That was all he had to worry about. He wished that that were all he had to worry about now. This was where his allegiance had been all along.

Scabior thought long and hard before he put on his traveling coat and shoved the photograph in his pocket. He took two wands from his desk – his and Scarlett's – and placed them in his pocket next to the photograph. He looked around the room, thinking of anything else that he would need to take with him, for he did not intend to return to this room ever again. He blew the candle out on his desk and left.

It was nearly two-thirty in the morning, and a bit chilly. He should have grabbed and extra cloak, but there would be no turning back and it was a little late for that now. He walked quickly across the grounds, and arrived at the door to the building that was Scarlett was detained in. Fenrir was keeping watch.

"I'm to relieve you from your post," Scabior said as he approached. "Yaxley's orders."

Fenrir did not protest, as Scabior knew that he wouldn't. "Good," he grumbled. "I'm bloody exhausted."

Fenrir stepped down from his post, and walked away into the mist of the night. Scabior waited five full minutes until after the werewolf had left, and then he waved his wand, unlocking the door to the building. He slowly opened it and closed it quickly behind him. He heard the sound of snoring coming from all around him. He walked to the end of the hall, to the cell in which he had earlier placed Scarlett.

"Scarlett," he breathed when he got to the bars of her cell. A little louder, he hissed, "Scarlett, are you awake?"

She crawled into the moonlight and stood up to be level with him. "Scabior," she whispered in surprise.

"Step back," he instructed her. "Please."

He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and began fumbling in the dark for the correct one. He found it and unlocked the door.

"What are you doing?" Scarlett asked, puzzled.

"Choosing a side," he responded. "Doing the right thing. Call it what you like. But come on, we haven't much time."

Scabior reached out his hand, and for a moment, he didn't think Scarlett would take it. She looked a bit wary and surprised, but a second later, her cold hand was in his grasp. He led her out of the cell and closed the door silently behind her.

"Come one, quietly," he whispered.

They walked to the end of the hall as silently as they could, closing the door behind them. It locked with a clank. Scabior didn't skip a beat. He continued to pull Scarlett behind him, and had his wand drawn in his other hand.

"Where are we going?" Scarlett whispered from behind him.

"You're to Apparate far away from here once we've broken through the enchantments. Go into hiding, go as far away as you can think of."

"And you?" Scarlett asked. "You're not coming with me? They'll know it was you that set me free."

Scabior had never thought that she would actually ask him to go with her. He had wanted to hear those words more than anything, but he never expected them.

"Are you sure you want me to?" he asked.

"Well you're going to need my Auror skills if you want to evade these blokes with any success," she said. "And two wizards together are much more powerful than one."

"Alright," Scabior agreed, trying to hide his pleasure. "We'll go together."

The two hurried quietly along across the grounds, Scabior still leading Scarlett by the hand, to a place from which they could Apparate.

"Now," Scabior explained, "when we break the protective boundaries, they're going to know. We'll only have a few moments, if that."

"What do we do?"

"Don't let go," he said firmly. "When I run, you run. We're nearly here."

The pair hastened another few steps, and then came to a stop. Scarlett could feel the magic of the barrier near her. Scabior raised his wand and muttered a few incantations under his breath. He then quickly pulled Scarlett behind him and began to run.

"Don't let go!" he called back to her as they ran.

Scarlett clenched tightly to his hand and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She then was suddenly plucked from where she was standing, twisted and contorted through darkness. She then hit the ground hard, and stood up and looked around, not releasing Scabior's hand. It was raining. He pulled her into what looked like a small cottage.

"Where exactly are we?" she asked.


	5. Chapter 5

"A few kilometers north of Leeds," Scabior answered, ushering Scarlett into the small log cabin and closing the door behind her. He only released her hand because he needed to lock and secure the door. "This used to be my Aunt's summer home."

"Is she here?"

"No, she's been dead for seven years."

"I'm sorry."

"Let's find out if anyone else is here."

Scabior raised his wand and whispered the _Hominum Revealio_ curse. Nothing happened, for the two were very much alone. They let out sighs of relief.

"Stay here," Scabior instructed Scarlett, after lighting a candle with his wand that sat on an end table that was near the door. "I'll go put up protective enchantments."

Scabior left the small cottage to go outside, at which time Scarlett became quite frightened. She was very much alone in an unfamiliar place, and she realized that she still didn't have her wand. This made her feel even more defenseless. She grabbed the candle off of the table and held it for comfort. She wondered if Scabior had thought to grab her wand before he sprung her from her cell, and wished more than anything that he would come back inside. As much as she hated to admit it, and as much as she failed to understand it, she was comforted by his presence and wanted him to stay near to her.

Soon, the door opened, and Scabior appeared back inside. He rushed toward Scarlett and said, "That should keep us safe, for a while at least."

"Good," Scarlett replied, as Scabior took the candle from her hands. "Do you have my—"

"Wand," he said, pulling Scarlett's wand from his pocket.

"Thank you," she said. She took it from him, turned to the fireplace and started a fire.

Scabior went to the small kitchen of the cottage. He returned a couple of minutes later with two mugs of tea, and gave one to Scarlett, who had settled in to the antique sofa in the entry room of the cottage. She took it from him with a small smile, and welcomed the drink's warmth.

"Do you think they'll have realized that we're gone by now?" she asked after a moment's silence.

Scabior sat down in a faded white and blue armchair. "Yes. They will have noticed."

"Do you think they'll find us?" she asked, with a bit more urgency in her tone of voice.

"Not for a while," Scabior replied. "None of the Death Eaters knew I had an aunt. But regardless, we'll only stay here until morning. Just to be safe."

Scarlett nodded, looking down at the cup of tea that was in her hands. "Thank you," she said, without looking up at him. She then averted her eyes and gave him a small, sad smile. "For everything."

"Of course," Scabior said. He felt very warmed by her expression of gratitude. "It's nothing."

Scarlett yawned, at which Scabior took the opportunity to offer to take the first watch. He wasn't tired anyway. Scarlett fell asleep on the sofa within a matter of seconds, and Scabior draped his coat over her once her breathing was steady and light.

Scabior then set to investigating the rest of the cottage. He had not been there in nearly a year, so he wanted to find what supplies were available. He went into a bedroom, which was adjacent to the living room, and looked inside a closet. He found a large woman's sweater and coat, which had probably belonged to his late aunt. He took them off the hanger for Scarlett and shook the dust off of them. He then went back into the living room and investigated a broom closet. It didn't contain anything useful, other than a small magical tent that he took out and put on the coffee table in front of the sleeping Scarlett. As far as food went, there wasn't much of anything available to them besides a lifetime's supply of tea. He would have to Apparate into Leeds in the morning.

When Scarlett awoke, she realized that there was something on top of her. It smelled somewhere between pleasant and putrid, but it kept her warm, which she quite enjoyed. It was only when she opened her eyes she realized that it was Scabior's must old jacket. She smiled slightly and pushed it off of her and sat up. Something fell out of the left-hand pocket when she did so. It looked like an old piece of parchment. She picked it up off the floor and turned it over, and realized that it wasn't parchment at all; it was a photograph. She was looking down at a younger version of herself in a plum colored dress, twirling madly and merrily around with Scabior, both of them laughing joyously. She was surprised to see the photograph, for she had almost forgotten about the Yule Ball that they attended together in their fifth year. She brought a hand to her mouth as she drew in a large breath of air. She examined Scabior's face. It had always been handsome, this she knew, but she forgot how striking he looked when he smiled.

Scarlett's head snapped in the direction of the kitchen when she heard something clang around. She got up from her place on the sofa, photograph still in hand, and walked to the kitchen. Scabior was standing over the stove, and turned around when he heard her enter the room.

"Good morning," he said, turning from the stove. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," Scarlett replied, pushing the hair out of her face.

"I hope you like eggs," he said. "I went to Leeds this morning and got some food."

"Wonderful, thank you," Scarlett said.

She sat down at the table for two, already set with two plates, and examined the photograph once more.

"Scabior?" she questioned, and was surprised to turn and see him so close to her.

"Yes?" he responded, sliding two eggs onto her plate and two onto his own.

Scarlett let Scabior sit down before she turned the photograph in Scabior's direction, pushed it across the table, and asked, "Scabior, why did you save me last night?"

Scabior put down his fork and knife and stopped eating. He looked down at the photograph and then up at Scarlett, who was wearing an expression of both concern and longing.

"Scarlett, I," he began.

But what? He what? Scabior wasn't quite sure of exactly why he had had such a change of heart last night. Seeing Scarlett as his victim had certainly given him a new perspective, that was for certain, but he could not explain why. The affections that he had had for her so many years ago had come rushing back at him in a way he had never expected, leaving him the most conflicted being in all of England.

"Scabior," Scarlett continued. "I arrested you. I testified against you at your trial. I placed you in Azkaban. You should hate me. You should want to do the most terrible things to me. So why are you helping me?"

But Scabior had already imagined himself doing the most terrible things to her. He had considered the fact that she had stolen his freedom, that she had belittled him and locked him away for what she thought would be an eternity. And when he was sprung from his cell, he obsessed over her. He searched relentlessly for her, wanted to find her and make her pay for what she had done to him. He wanted to force himself upon her, to overpower her, to make her helpless. He longed to violate her, to take something from her and make her feel as badly as he did. He was, however, never able to track her down. She was always away on some secret Ministry assignment, abroad or undercover. He would always just miss her. It was like trying to catch smoke in his bare hands. That killed Scabior a bit. He could never close in on his prey.

Until the previous evening, that is. He still had every intention of harming her, of making her suffer, of making her scream, beg him for her life and many other things. But when she was trapped beneath him, throwing punches and fighting like hell, something broken inside of him. He no longer had the desire to make her suffer. He knew that he should have wanted to knock her unconscious and leave her there at the very least, but he found this to be as far from the truth as possible. Instead, he longed to take her away somewhere where they could be alone, to make her his own. He had realized how far down the rabbit hole he had gone, and she was a way back up.

So why had he saved her? Scabior gave the one explanation he knew with his entire being to be true:

"Because I was wrong. About everything."

Scarlett simply unfolded her hands and placed them in her lap, and said, "Yes. Yes you were."

Scabior laughed at this, and Scarlett smiled. They continued eating breakfast in silence, Scarlett watching Scabior curiously. She was shocked at his sudden change of heart, and hoped with all of her might that it was genuine.

Scabior removed their plates from the table when they were done eating. He placed them in the sink and turned around to find Scarlett standing close to him. She smiled at him, and then looked at his left arm. He was still wearing a red kerchief around his bicep, signifying that he was a Snatcher. Scarlett raised her hands to the piece of cloth, and slowly and gently untied it. Scabior watcher her small fingers as she worked at the knot. He looked at her face, her eyes focused on her task. She was so beautiful.

"There," she said, sliding the red cloth from his arm. "Much better."

She looked up at him and they both realized how close together they were standing. Neither of them, however, did anything to change that. They spent several silent moments looking into each other's eyes before Scarlett looked away and turned to go back to the living room.

Scabior followed her there, and they discussed what they should do next. It was decided that they would Apparate further north, to Edinburgh in Scotland. Scarlett knew of a wood where they could hide themselves for a while, and Scabior fancied the idea of putting some distance between themselves and the Death Eaters. He gave Scarlett the new clothes he had found for her. She changed into them in the bedroom, and came back carrying a small bag. She performed and undetectable extension charm on the bag, and they place the food, tent, blankets, extra clothes, and some books off of the bookshelf in it. They then went outside, removed the protective enchantments, and Dissapparated from the cottage in Leeds.


	6. Chapter 6

They reappeared in the middle of a snowy forest in Edinburgh, Scotland. Scabior and Scarlett spent a moment standing completely still and silent, still holding hands from Apparating. They listened for any possible noise or sign of life around them. After a few moments when the learned they weren't in any danger, Scabior extracted the tent that was in the bag Scarlett wore, while she set to casting some protective spells around the area that they would be staying in. She, being the Auror, was more skilled and better at doing this anyway. Once everything was settled, Scabior held open the flap to the tent for Scarlett, and the two went inside.

Scarlett made a stew from some of the food that was packed into the bag, and served it to Scabior and herself. They sat at a table in the center of the magical tent, which was actually more like a small apartment. It contained a basic kitchen, small bathroom, a sitting room, and a bedroom with two cots. After they had finished eating, the two of them sat in the sitting room, Scarlett on a cozy armchair and Scabior on a sofa. They spent the afternoon in almost silence, only speaking when they thought of something to say. Scarlett spent the better part of the day reading a book she had taken from the cottage about Hippogriffs. Scabior watched her pour over the book's pages, and tried to look preoccupied with his own reading whenever she looked up.

"So what do you suppose we do now?" Scabior asked after Scarlett had closed her book and set it on the floor.

Scarlett puckered her lips in thought. "I think I should try to contact someone from the Order of the Phoenix."

Scabior remained silent.

Scarlett, feeling the need to explain her wishes, continued, "What other option do we have? Sit cooped up in a tent all day while everyone around us is fighting? We can't expect anything to change if we don't help. And they're all my friends; they'll be worried about me and want to know I'm safe."

Scabior didn't like the idea of contacting the others, particularly because he was afraid they'd try to throttle him the first chance they got, and partially because he wanted to spend more time alone with Scarlett. But he thought about it and decided that they really didn't have many other options.

"I suppose you're right," Scabior answered. "But won't they want to kill me?"

"Of course not," Scarlett said, sounding a little hurt. "Not when they hear of how you rescued me! Not when I tell them how you saved my life."

Scabior looked at the ground.

"Look," Scarlett explained. "It's not like you have to join the Order or anything. But I have to at least check in. And they'll be able to protect us. There are a lot of powerful wizards in the Order. We'll be safe with them." She paused. "There's supposed to be a meeting tomorrow night."

"Absolutely not," Scabior said.

Scarlett was on her feet now. "You said you wanted to help me," Scarlett said angrily.

"But I never said I'd join your little glee club!" Scabior also stood up.

"You said you were wrong! You said you were wrong about _everything_. What, were those just words? Just telling me what I wanted to hear to make me go with you?"

"Do you understand what you're asking of me?" Scabior roared. "Just yesterday I helped you escape from a camp full of Death Eaters. I risked me life for _you_!"

"And did you risk it so we could sit in a tent in the middle of the woods for months, maybe years? What are you so afraid of?"

Scabior was silent.

"Scabior," Scarlett sighed. "Please. I don't expect you to join the Order. I don't expect you to do anything. But you can't stop me from being who I am. You can't stop me from fighting _him._" She shuddered when she referred to Voldemort. "So if you're not going to do anything, at least stand aside while I do. "

Scabior sunk back into his chair, wordless. Scarlett looked at him for a moment. He would not meet her eyes. Scarlett sighed in disgust, and walked to the room with the two cots in it. As he stared into nothingness, Scabior could hear her producing a Patronus charm and sending it off to someone in the Order with a message.

Would it really be so bad, he thought? He could imagine the scenario playing out in two ways: Scarlett introducing him around to all the members, greeting one an other in hand shakes and smiles, or him being cursed the moment he stepped through the door. It was ludicrous that the situation would play out in a positive way. Surely these people knew all about him being a Snatcher. Perhaps he had even imprisoned some of their family and friends. And how could he possibly join the Order? One doesn't simply go from being a Snatcher to a member of the Order of the Phoenix overnight. It was a complete change of morality and principality.

But, as much as he hated to admit it, Scarlett was right. He had admitted that he had been in the wrong, and he truly believed it. He hadn't expected, however, to have to take action based around his new moral center so abruptly. It was just yesterday that he was roughing up Mudbloods and other threats to the Dark Lord's regime. Now he had the choice to fight against it.

He thought of Scarlett, and how noble her heart was. She sought only to fight for her freedom, and that of others. She was brave enough that the Sorting Hat could have easily placed her in Gryffindor while they were in school. He recalled one time when a couple of Slytherins were picking on a first-year from Hufflepuff, and she screamed across the Great Hall for them to stop being such idiotic, insecure, and bastardly, to put it nicely. He all but dragged her away from the situation before a teacher showed up. Scabior wished that he had even half the amount of courage that she did. She would do anything to protect the ones she loved, and he would do anything for her.

Scabior got up from his chair and walked into the bedroom. Scarlett was sitting on one of the beds. Scabior sat across from her on the other. She looked up at him as he took a seat.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," he explained. "I never meant to."

"Scabior," Scarlett began, with a slight edge in her voice.

"I want to come with you."

"What?" Scarlett said in shock.

"I want to come with you," he repeated.

"_Why?_"

"Because you're right. I'm beginning to see that you're always right," he laughed. "Words alone mean nothing. If I'm going do this, then I have to commit."

Scarlett looked at him in disbelief.

"Look, I'm not going to join the Order or go out leading the fight against the Dark Lord," he made clear, "but I want to go with you."

Scarlett smiled. "Okay," she said. "Good. Great."

Scabior reached across the space between the two beds and took Scarlett's hands in his. She looked up at him, but did not withdraw. Scabior smiled.

"I'm trying, Scarlett. I want to be different."

"I know," she said softly.

She opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment, a curiously bright blue orb of light appeared in the room. It took the shape of a lynx, and made an announcement in a deep, authoritative voice.

"Glad to hear you are alright," it said. "We were worried. Shell Cottage, tomorrow night at six. Don't be late."

The Patronous disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"Kingsley," Scarlett explained. "Meeting's on for tomorrow." She stood up, removing her hands from Scabior's. "Get some sleep, I'll take first watch." She smiled and threw the small bag from her bed at him so that he could take some blankets.

"Are you sure?" Scabior asked.

"Of course. You haven't slept in at least a day. And besides," she said with a mischievous smile as she approached the exit to the tent, "you look bloody awful."


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry it's been such a long time since I've updated the story! Finals week just ended, so expect more chapters at a faster rate. :]**

**Thank you for all the reviews, and to all who are reading! I've had a lot of fun writing this, and I'm glad you all are enjoying it as well.**

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**Scarlett kept watch well after dark, sipping on tea and keeping her eyes roaming constantly. Nothing disturbed their area all the while, except the steady, light fall of snow throughout the night. She was just beginning to nod off to sleep when Scabior came and put a blanket around her shoulders, as she sat near a small fire at the entrance to the tent. She smiled as he sat down next to her.

"Sleep well?" she asked, looking up at him.

"I did, thank you."

"Good," Scarlett replied.

"Any sign of anything?"

"No, nothing," she said thankfully. "Just snowfall."

"Good," said Scabior, quite calmed by the news that they had not been detected in their forest hideaway.

"I doubted anyone would think to look for us here," she said. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.

"Go," Scabior said, nodding toward the tent.

"Are you sure?" Scarlett asked.

"Yes," Scabior said.

She smiled kindly at him, bid him goodnight, and went inside. He watched her as she left. Her long hair trailed to the middle of her back, curling at the ends and bouncing with her step, decorated with some melting snowflakes. Her long eyelashes brushed her cheek, also adorned with crystally white drops. She could have easily casted an enchantment to protect her seat from the snow, but instead she had only chosen to decrease its volume. He knew that she had always liked snow. He could see the outline of her slender body in the over-sized sweater and fitted jeans that she wore. She moved so flawlessly, even though she was only walking a few simple steps. He found himself looking at the entrance to the tent for a long while after she had left.

Scabior remembered the first time he met Scarlett. They were first years at Hogwarts, sitting together in Charms class, which was their very first class at the wizarding school. She was seated right at the front of the classroom, looking quite eager and ready for the lesson to begin, with the proper textbooks on her desk, next to neatly laid out parchment, ink, and quill. She looked intelligent. It was just an air about her. Her hair was shorter then, and she had a few freckles that she hadn't quite grown out of yet, but her green eyes were exactly the same. She smiled when he sat down next to her.

"I'm Scarlett," she said, extending a hand.

"Scabior," he said, shaking it. He had noticed from the color of her robes that she was from Ravenclaw. He had felt a bit disappointed, but at least she wasn't in Gryffindor. "Pleasure."

She turned back to her books, adjusted her quill so it was parallel to the sheet of parchment, and sighed. He could tell that she was nervous for the class to begin, perhaps wondering what to expect and how she would perform.

"You must be smart," Scabior said, making small talk. "Being in Ravenclaw and all."

"Thank you," she said shyly, her cheeks growing a bit rosy. "I at least hope so."

It became apparent rather quickly that Scarlett was not only incredibly brilliant, but also a very talented witch. She was the first student in their entire year to perform the levitation charm they were instructed to practice, and she got it on the first try. Her notes for every class were flawless: organized and perfectly complete, written in her unique and neat cursive. She always read for all of her classes, and spent a large portion of her spare time in the library looking up things that she was curious about or that she wished to further understand. Scabior quickly came up with the idea of being study partners with her, which Scarlett graciously agreed to, never turning down the opportunity for some extra learning or practice.

And from then on, it was history. He couldn't remember ever looking back, or wishing that things were different. The mockery that he received from his fellow Slytherins couldn't change the bond of friendship that he and Scarlett shared. They took all of their classes together for the rest of their education at Hogwarts. They ate lunch together every day, taking turns sitting at their respective house tables. They spent their weekends together, in the library or down by the lake or wandering around the castle, discovering new corridors, secret passage ways, and towers. Once they were old enough, they went to Hogsmead together, taking turns buying butterbeers and finding new sweets to try at the candy store. They spent long nights in the library, drilling one another on facts and spells that would be on their O.W.L.S, or their N.E.W.T.S. Scabior and Scarlett were quite inseparable for those seven years. Wherever one went, so did the other.

Scabior now realized that he had been in love with Scarlett all this time. For fourteen years, he had never stopped thinking about her, or caring deeply for her. He loved her the first time she said hello. He loved her when she let him copy her Potions notes. He loved her when she got frustrated with new spells. He loved her when she kissed him on the cheek after the Yule Ball in their fifth year. He loved her when they graduated, and he didn't think he would see her again. He loved her when she didn't write. He loved her when she sent him to Azkaban. He loved her when he hated her. He loved her when he struck her across the face just two days ago. He loved her when he rescued her. In everything, Scabior loved Scarlett. Loved her, and done nothing.

Scabior got up from the fire and went back into the tent. He looked at the photograph of the two of them at the Yule Ball, which had been placed on the table earlier that day. He touched Scarlett's twirling figure – the soft skin, the broad smile, the rosy cheeks. He looked at himself in the enchanted photograph and took notice of how happy he was. He then looked towards the bedroom. Walking as softly as he could, he tiptoed toward her cot. Scarlett lay sleeping on her side, her breathing light. She looked very peaceful and content, and perfect to Scabior. He knelt beside her bed, bringing his face only inches away from hers. He lightly planted a soft kiss on her cheek. Scarlett stirred a bit at his kiss, but she did not wake. Scabior smiled to himself, got up, brushed his fingers gently over the spot that he had kissed, and went back to keeping watch.

The next morning, when Scarlett awoke, they ate breakfast and played several long games of wizard's chess. Scarlett noticed that something had changed in Scabior's countenance. Overall, he was much more pleasant to be around, and smiled often. He even offered to clean up after they had eaten lunch. Searched though she did, Scarlet could not seem to come up with a reason as to why he was acting so. Perhaps he was practicing for their encounter with the members of the Order of the Phoenix that was to come later that evening.

She had had the strangest dream while she slept. She was laying down on something soft and comfortable and could feel sunlight on her face. Perhaps it was some grassy meadow or a large bed, but Scarlett couldn't tell because she didn't open her eyes in her dream. Then, she had felt two lips brush gently against her cheek and lay down a soft kiss. She didn't know how or why, but she knew that the lips that had kissed her belonged to Scabior. It had felt so pleasant and nice to be kissed by him. But it was only a dream, wasn't it? Real as though it felt, Scarlett could not remember it happening in reality. Letting it go, she continued on with the rest of the day.

At six o'clock, the tent was packed, the protective enchantments were removed, and Scabior and Scarlett stood holding hands.

"Don't be nervous," Scarlett told him. "Once they hear of all the good you've done, they'll think you a hero."

"I doubt that." Scabior said nervously.

Scarlett squeezed his hand and smiled at him. "You're with me now. They're not going to do anything to you. I won't let it happen."

Scabior returned Scarlett's smile and squeezed her had a bit tighter. They turned on the spot, and reappeared on a dark coastline.


End file.
